The Crow God's Girl

by Patrice Sarath

  The girl snorted. “I couldn’t figure you out. I did tell the crow god to send help, but when he sent a servant on her master’s horse, and a girl to boot, I thought it was his way of getting his own back at me.”

  “Excuse me, but you’re a girl too, and we didn’t do too badly.” Who was this kid? If all crows were like this–

  No. They were worse, she knew that from bitter experience. Way way worse than a talkative brat.

  “I’m not a girl. I’m a crow. Is it a game you’re playing? To dress up like a servant?”

  “No! Clothes just don’t matter to me. I have to go.” She shook out her skirts and made to clamber back over the stone wall toward the house.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the house. I’m busy.”

  “Then why are you out here?”

  “Just–because.” Would the kid never stop? The girl didn’t say anything, just looked at her with those preternatural eyes. She hunched in her ragged clothes, and Kate was made uncomfortably aware of how similar their clothing was.

  “What are you doing out here anyway?” Kate said, going on the offensive. She put a haughty tone in her voice. If this crow thought she wasn’t the young heir’s intended, Kate would make it very clear how wrong she was.

  The crow’s expression changed, and she cast down her eyes, as if chastened. “The stableman, he told me to bring in two horses for shoeing. One called Gray and one called Red Socks. Only–” she cast another look at the horses. She was afraid of them.

  If she were being Lady Kate, she should leave the crow to do it by herself, except the girl would never manage alone. Grudgingly, she said, “I’ll help.”

  The crow girl flashed a grin, and it lit up her face. Without meaning to, Kate grinned back, rueful and reluctant.

  Between the two of them, they managed to halter the horses and bring them in, Kate giving pointers to the crow girl. She watched with wide eyes as Kate handled the two horses with confidence.

  “I saw the way you rode in on that big horse last night,” she told Kate. “You were like a king. Except for the clothes.”

  Again with the clothes. “I didn’t know there were kings in Aeritan,” Kate said lightly, but it was nice, for once, to be appreciated.

  “Only for the crows.”

  Kate turned to look at her, pushing Gray’s head out of the way. “Crows have kings?”

  “You lords call him our king, but you say it in fun. He’s our old man. He calls down the malcra, and he takes it away.” At Kate’s skepticism the girl scowled. “You don’t believe me, and now you’ll make fun.”

  “No, no, I won’t, I promise. I just thought you meant, well, a king like a lord. A–big lord.”

  “The last King of Aeritan was a crow.” The girl spoke with quiet self-assurance.

  This time Kate laughed. Her laugh faded at Ossen’s expression. “That’s not possible,” Kate faltered.

  “Why not?” The girl’s expression was belligerent. “We don’t have lords, because we don’t have Houses. The whole land is our House. The crows are the true heirs of Aeritan.”

  They reached the gate, a ramshackle wooden structure on pegs between the two stone walls. Kate handed Ossen the lead ropes and pushed the gate open. The crow led the horses through.

  “So why are you like you are?” Kate said, closing the gate behind them. Up ahead she could see Drabian and Stelpin waiting for them. The mist had gotten thicker and it was raining full on. Water dripped down her kerchief into her eyes and down the back of her neck. Even wool was no match against rain. Smoke came up from the smithy and she could smell burning iron and charcoal along with the smell of wet wool.

  “It won’t be for always,” Ossen said. “Soon, the crows will be the rightful owners of this land again.” She spoke with calm certainty that sent a shiver down Kate’s spine. Did the crows mean to overthrow the lords and the council?

  It was impossible. They were crows. Dangerous, dirty, lawless, crazy, and they were no more the rightful heirs of Aeritan than she was.

  Drabian came up to them and took the lead ropes.

  “What took you so long?” he snapped. “Here, boy, help the smith with the fire. And you, young lady. What are you doing out on a day like today?”

  As if she would melt away.

  “I was just helping he– him catch the horses,” Kate said. She avoided looking at the crow girl. How could Drabian not see that she was a girl? Yes, she was androgynous, but she had not even the barest beginning of a beard, when even Yare was beginning to sprout a wayward chin hair or two.

  They didn’t see a girl because all they could see was a crow, she realized, and. that was better for Ossen anyway. It was dangerous enough for her to be a girl alone, no matter how capable she was. If any of the men at arms even suspected that she was female, she could be in a lot of trouble.

  “See you,” she said lightly to the girl, willing herself to not give anything away. Ossen grinned back, water dripping from her nose and her now lank hair.

  Drabian scowled again. “Did I not just tell you to man the bellows, boy? Go before I stripe your backside. And you miss! To the house with you! I won’t have Lady Beatra hold me responsible for your misbehavior.”

  Ossen ran off at once and Kate hastened back to the house, her skirts wet and plastered to her hose so that it was hard to walk. At least the courtyard was empty, the men having retreated to the kitchens in the rain, but it no longer mattered. Maybe it was having spent time in Ossen’s company and her inquisitive, unstoppable attitude, but she wasn’t apprehensive about the soldiers anymore. They were jerks, but they weren’t crows.

  She knew the difference.

  Colar waited in the warm privy council chamber at Salt. The room was heated by a stove, a pot of water steaming on the top of it to take the dryness out of the air. Blown-glass oil lamps glowed on every surface, and the windows were glazed. Autumn rain streaked down the panes, but the glass was thick, and while there was cold air if one sat close to the windows, the rest of the room was comfortable. Two giant bearskins fronted the stove, and the mighty chairs were covered with furs.

  It was a comfortable chamber for making plans, for changing the world. He knew his father had sat in that very chamber, probably talking with Lord Kenery and Lord Salt about him.

  Here he would meet Janye for the first time. He had seen her before during Council, but had never spoken to her. She was older than he, twenty-eight or so, he didn't know for sure, and was reckoned a beauty. Somehow, that rankled–he knew that it was supposed to make things easier for him. As if he would just throw over Kate and nothing mattered.

  Make her your light-woman after you get a proper heir... Kate wouldn't go for that. In her world, people handfasted all the time without a proper marriage, but this was different. He meant to explain it to her and had started several letters but never found the right words. And then his father, tired of waiting, wrote to his mother and Colar had not had a chance to send a letter in the dispatch pouch.

  Ride home, he thought. He could be out of Salt within an hour of commandeering a mount and provisions. He rode light; he could have a several hours head start before they even knew he had made his escape.

  But he knew he wouldn't. He had never been in the habit of disobeying his father. And if he fled–for flight it would be–it would bring down shame on his House, derision upon himself. He could imagine the words flying around Council. She's beautiful and he was afraid of her. Ran home to mama. Colar found that he was pacing. He forced himself to sit on one of the furred chairs. He sank in and was made uncomfortable by the softness. He stood and paced some more.

  Maybe she will reject me, he thought, but he knew she had as little choice in the matter as he did.

  A knock sounded and he whirled to face the door. It opened, and she stepped in, followed by her father and mother. Behind them came Salt and Terrick. They ranged themselves in front of him and he bowed.

  “My lady,” he said. She curtseyed smoothly,
but her expression was apprehensive. So she was as nervous as he was. She was pretty too, now that he could see her up close. She was prettier than Kate. He couldn’t see her hair, tucked as it was under a tidy kerchief, but her eyes were large and dark blue, and her mouth wide and full. It made her father look rather like a duck, but on her it was pretty. And her figure, in her fine dyed linen and silk, was comely. Perversely, it set his back up. What, I’m just supposed to give in? Because she has a fine figure and she’s pretty?

  No one said anything. Colar wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next. It was Salt’s house–should he offer them a seat? Were they all going to stay? Kenery and Lady Niyani looked at one another, as if to say, see, the vaunted Terrick character, and the boy knows nothing of what is due an equal. His father just glared at all of them. He and Colar had not spoken since his father told him of his marriage.

  Salt saved him.

  “Master Terrick, we will leave you to get acquainted with your lady in private. Come, parents, it’s best to leave the youngsters. They can get into no mischief here.” He chivvied them out, and Colar had a sudden understanding that all the parents would be highly pleased if they did get themselves into mischief. What had they called it in Kate’s world? A done deal.

  She was still standing. He had forgotten what her name was. Janye, that was it. She had been married to a younger son of some other House, and he forgot which one. He should ask her about her husband. Wait–should he?

  “My lady,” he said. He gestured toward the chair nearest the stove. “Please, sit.”

  It came out sounding like an order. She obeyed it, lifting her skirts and settling herself into the chair. She had to look up at him, and Colar, with a start, sat down in the chair opposite.

  “So,” she said abruptly. “You are how old?”

  “Eighteen, ma’am–my lady.”

  She looked up briefly at the ceiling. “Well. I suppose I should be pleased that you are an eldest son, at least.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  “So do I suit you, eldest son of Terrick, all of eighteen years old?”

  Anger pricked him.

  “No.”

  She looked at him and laughed. “Good for you. I was assured that I was much prettier than the girl you love, and that you would forget about her in a snap.” She suited actions to words. “But you are more constant than that.”

  “They told you about her?” More and more, his outrage grew. He knew nothing of this woman, and yet she had been told everything about him. Then again, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with his father, and so maybe he missed an opportunity.

  “Colar of Terrick, you are the heir to Terrick and the boy who went through the gordath half dead and returned alive and well with a stranger girl. Are you in love with her, or were you simply grateful?”

  His mouth dropped. She was the first person to ever voice what he sometimes thought about late at night, when he looked up at his ceiling over his pitch-black bed. I love Kate, he thought. She will–would have–been the greatest lady in all of Aeritan and I her lord. He could see himself with her, and he wanted her. He just didn’t know if the love he felt was because it was expected of him. Again he was shamed by his own habit of obedience.

  She watched him keenly, her fingers steepled, her eyes intent. She was no simple, simpering girl. It struck him that her parents might not even know that. She was as trapped as he was by honor, by obedience, and by custom, but she did not like it. She was given once in marriage and now again. Her only fate was to be married to a successive number of husbands, if she were unlucky enough to continue her career as a widow.

  “Well,” she said, when he did not answer. “I see.” This time she smiled and it had more than a bit of the Kenery smugness.

  “Did you love your first husband?” He wanted to hurt her, to make her angry, and her face did reflect anger. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth thinned.

  “I doubt very much that we will need to know everything about one another, Colar of Terrick. You are hardly out of boyhood and thus lack anything of interest to me. Oh yes, including that. It’s all my women can talk about.” She rolled her eyes again. “I have my secrets, you have yours. This is a political alliance, no more.”

  She got up and he stood automatically. She walked out. He heard conversation at the door but nothing he could make out, and then his father came in, and the door closed once more. His father looked more dour than usual and his eyes were strained.

  “Colar...” His father began.

  Colar didn’t want to hear it, whatever new reason his father had for this alliance. “It’s done, sir. You’ll have your marriage.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kate sat down in Lady Beatra’s private office, facing her, Torvan, and Maksin. Her stomach clenched and she tried to stay calm. It felt like a tribunal, and her two enemies were her judges.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said to Lady Beatra. “I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”

  Lady Beatra looked tired and worn out, but she smiled kindly at Kate.

  “Kett, child, it’s just that–as a foster daughter of Terrick, you are just as if you were one of our children. And what you do is as important to our family as it is to yours. When Colar was in your home, I’m sure your parents were as concerned for his reputation as we are for yours.”

  Oh shit. Samar must have looked in the package. Kate had stuffed it under the mattress with her bra and panties, but if Samar had looked at it when she carried it to Kate, she would have told Lady Beatra at once. But then, why the hell were Torvan and Maksin here, glowering at her with suspicious triumph? Kate struggled for calm, even as she felt her face redden, just proving her guilt. If only I knew what I’m guilty of.

  “Lady Beatra, if I’ve offended anyone or done anything wrong, it was by accident, I promise,” she said, striving to keep her voice from shaking.

  “How did you know Yare was to be found at the river?” Maksin growled. Kate stared at him, confused.

  “What?”

  “How could you have known about the river? How did you know Yare would be there?”

  “Thani told me that in the summer, she saw the stranger girl and the young heir come home from a ride, and both of them were quite damp,” Torvan put in. He threw a glance at Kate and added slyly, “Thani said that the girl’s hair was wet and covered to hide it. She touched her clothes later to make sure, and her outlandish clothes were damp though the girl changed into more modest clothing ever since.”

  Thani had gone into her room and felt her clothes. That bitch. Kate burned with rage. That little bitch. When I am Lady Beatra she’ll be scrubbing floors in the outhouse.

  “I couldn’t figure out how the girl could have ridden straight to where those men were, Lady,” Maksin said, back to harping on Kate’s other sin. “She knew about the river, and she must have known the men would be there. She was in league with them, ma’am. That’s the only way she could have known.”

  Torvan threw him an angry look. “She knew about the river because she and the young lord went a-trysting there.”

  She couldn’t believe it. “Lady Beatra,” she said, and for the first time a wobble entered her voice. She focused on Colar’s mother. “Ma’am, that’s not true. I told Maksin about the road down to the river and the–the voice I heard.”

  “That children’s tale!” The soldier exploded. “My lady, she is a liar, plain and simple.”

  Lady Beatra snapped. “Maksin, stop. Kett told me, and I believe her. Would that you had as well.”

  If looks could kill, Kate would be dead. Maksin glowered at her. She held his gaze with equal contempt. Oblivious, Lady Beatra went on.

  “As for the other, I suppose that was understandable and little harm done, though Colar should have known better, and I wonder at your upbringing...”

  “She is bringing down the reputation of this House with her lewdness and unbecoming manners!” Torvan said. “And where has she been lately? In the past
ure with the crow!”

  “I helped him catch two of the horses for shoeing!” Kate cried.

  “And how did she know the boy was there!” Maksin put in, almost whining.

  This time Lady Beatra help up both hands to simmer them all down. “Kett, please tell us. How did you know?”

  Kate felt herself pale. She licked her lips. “Lady Beatra, it was the voice. I know you don’t believe me, but I heard it. It warned me. And when I rode back, it just felt right. That’s all. Maybe it was a lucky guess, I don’t know.”

  “A lucky guess,” Torvan sneered.

  “Only the soldier’s god gives that kind of luck,” said Maksin.

  Lady Beatra pressed her fingers to her eyes. “All right. Torvan and Maksin, back to your duties. Kett–please see to Eri. She’s missed you all day and has pined for you.”

  The men stood and bowed, and Kate curtsied, still awkward. As they pushed their way past her, Torvan turned and threw her a malicious glance. When they were gone, Kate tried one more time.

  “Ma’am,” she said, a catch in her voice.

  “Go now, child. Eri waits.”

  On the surface, nothing changed, but Kate knew that everything had. The householders in Torvan’s faction had always treated her to sly glances and insolence. Now they were openly disrespectful, though still careful not to let Lady Beatra see. Of the others, only Samar talked to her the way she always had, with a faint air of irritation, and only Drabian continued to treat her with a kind of rough kindness.

  “Kett, hurry!” It was Eri, calling her from the door to their room. “Please stop writing!”

  “I’ll be right there, almost done,” Kate promised. She finished the letter to Colar with a scrawl.

  I have to go now. Eri wants me to go ride with her and Yare. I’ll write soon, and tell you everything. Can’t wait to see you.